


lately i've been crying like a tall child

by gloomyfruit



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/F, First Love, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 13:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18895168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloomyfruit/pseuds/gloomyfruit
Summary: “Why are you doing this? Why now?” Seulgi can’t stop herself from asking.“What do you mean, why now? Because I found you again,” Yerim says, sounding honestly confused. It’s like she really doesn’t understand why Seulgi is asking, like there aren’t a million reasons why national celebrity Kim Yerim wouldn’t be hanging around part-time waitress, part-time dancer, and full-time failure Kang Seulgi.





	lately i've been crying like a tall child

“Do you believe in signs?” Sooyoung asks, taking a drag from one of the cigarettes she’ll later swear she never smoked.

“I’m an Aquarius,” Seulgi says, deadpan. Sooyoung rolls her eyes, reaching over to shove Seulgi’s arm.

“Fuck off, unnie. I mean, like,” Sooyoung gestures broadly, dropping ash onto the pavement. “Signs from the universe.”

Seulgi stares at the giant advertisement on the building across the street from where they’re sitting. Kim Yerim for Maxim Gold instant coffee. She looks down at the can of coffee in her hand. Kim Yerim for Maxim Triplespresso. 

“Nah,” Seulgi says. “All that destiny stuff’s a load of horseshit.”

 

* * *

 

Two years ago, Kim Yerim’s debut single was released to little fanfare. She performed on exactly three (3) music shows, not that Seulgi was counting. She took part in one (1) radio interview, which Seulgi just happened to hear. The song, generic bubblegum pop about a girl dreaming of her first kiss, never even charted on MelOn. 

One year and eight months ago, Kim Yerim’s follow-up single was released. IU recommended it on her Instagram shortly afterward. Within 24 hours the song was charting at #54, and it only climbed higher from there. 

The song, a nostalgic ballad about missed chances at first love, still climbs back up the charts every few months. Seulgi’s pretty sure it’s been playing in every café she’s gone to since it was released. 

Kim Yerim, the nation’s newest first love.

 

* * *

 

When Seulgi gets home that night, there’s a notice pinned to her door. 

_Hello Tenants,_

_Please be aware that there will be a music video filming on this street this upcoming Thursday (November 17th). A camera crew may be in and around the building, but no tenants or apartment interiors will be filmed without written consent._

_Thank you for your cooperation!_  
_Management_

Seulgi looks around, frowning. Outside the gate, the building is an old grey block of concrete; once you get inside, the view isn’t much better. It hasn’t changed since she was thirteen, except maybe to acquire some new stains on the walls and new cracks in the concrete. The entire neighbourhood is shabby in a way that is decidedly un-chic. She can’t imagine what kind of music video would be filmed here, of all places. 

She crumples the note up in her fist as she pushes the door open, depositing it on her kitchen table on her way to the bathroom. 

She’s forgotten all about it by the time Thursday rolls around, so it’s an unpleasant surprise when she wakes up to loud voices and music outside her window at eight in the morning. Seulgi pulls her pillow over her head and groans, then pokes her head back out and flops across the bed when that doesn’t make any difference. She only crawled into bed three hours before, and her shift at the restaurant starts at 11. 

She gives herself another five minutes, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to pretend she can’t hear anything, before she gives up and groans again, rolling herself out of bed and standing up. 

Seulgi stays like that, standing in the middle of her bedroom with her palms pressed to her face, for a solid minute before she makes a decision. 

She doesn’t own a robe, so she grabs a blanket off of her bed and wraps it around herself like a cape instead as she marches to the door of her apartment. Seulgi follows the sounds through the hallway and outside the building until she’s in the alley next to her bedroom window, staring at what looks to be a full camera crew.

Seulgi pulls her blanket cape tighter and scowls. There’s a woman standing a little outside the main cluster, wearing a fitted blazer and holding a tablet. She’s both very beautiful and very professional-looking, so Seulgi fixes her gaze on the woman and marches towards her. 

“Excuse me,” she starts. The beautiful woman looks up and _wow_ , okay, her face is even more perfect up close. It’s like staring at a Laneige advertisement in real life. Seulgi blinks and reorients herself, but before she has time to say anything more, she’s interrupted by a bright voice.

“Unnie? _Seulgi-unnie_? Is that really you?”

Seulgi looks up, startled by the sound of her own name, and sees - 

Kim Yerim, in the flesh.

Kim Yerim, wearing a big black puffy coat and a huge smile, walking towards her like she’s, oh _no_ , like she’s -

Oh, yes. Like she’s going for a hug. 

Her arms wrap around Seulgi, awkward around Seulgi’s blanketed shoulders but still warm and tight, squeezing exactly the way she did back then, back when - 

When - 

Seulgi blinks and pulls back. 

“I can’t believe it’s you! Do you still live here? Unnie, that’s perfect,” Yerim gushes, one hand still wrapped around Seulgi’s arm, grip firm on the yellow fleece. 

“Why… Perfect?” Seulgi manages, feeling like an idiot. Laneige Ad is still watching them from where she’s standing behind Yerim, one perfect eyebrow raised in bemusement. 

“Oh my god, this is so much better than I imagined,” Yerim continues, oblivious to Seulgi’s confusion. “We can get you in the video too!”

Wait.

“What?” Seulgi’s voice falters a little. She narrows her eyes at Yerim, pulls her blanket tighter.

“You can be in the video with me! Or maybe instead of me? What do you think, Juhyun-unnie?” Yerim turns and addresses the last sentence towards Laneige Ad, who still hasn’t said anything. 

“No,” Seulgi blurts out, before any of this can continue. “I don’t want that. Thanks, but no.”

Yerim’s face falls. 

“I actually have to go now? I have work, so,” Seulgi gestures vaguely towards the building. “I’m gonna go get ready. It was good to see you, Yerim. Good luck with all… this.”

Seulgi flaps her hand towards the camera crew and fakes a smile that’s more like a grimace, backing up towards where the alley opens into the street. 

“Unnie, wait!” Yerim reaches out for her, tries to follow, but Seulgi’s too fast, darting out of her way and towards the door of the building. 

“Nice to see you again, Yerim! Bye!” Seulgi waves again as she keys in the passcode, her blanket flapping like a bat’s wing, then slips through the gate and closes it behind her.

 

* * *

 

Seulgi spends as much time as she can dawdling in the convenience store by the subway, then again inside the subway station, then _again_ inside the _next_ subway station, but she still ends up an hour early to her shift, banging on the locked back door so Seungwan will let her in. 

“You’re early today,” Seungwan says suspiciously, looking Seulgi up and down like there are secrets hidden somewhere inside her shabby coat. 

Seulgi rolls her eyes.

“Couldn’t stay at my apartment,” she says. “They were filming something on the street. It was really loud.”

Seungwan wrinkles her nose.

“Why were they filming _there_?” she asks, voice skeptical. It’s a fair question, but Seulgi still bristles a bit.

“I dunno,” she lies. 

“Well, you should have stayed,” Seungwan says, matter of fact. “Maybe you could have gotten in a shot. It could have been your big break.”

Seungwan’s always looking for her big break. She moonlights as a singer when she’s not hostessing at the restaurant, singing in bars and cafés and posting covers online. Seulgi looked up her videos one night when she was feeling particularly creepy and honestly, Seungwan’s got a nice voice. It sounds the way Seulgi always wanted hers to sound, back when singing was something she still thought she could do.

“If I got my big break, who would cover table twelve?” Seulgi says in a carefree voice, brushing past Seungwan towards the employee break room. “Got you there, huh?”

“You’re ridiculous!” Seungwan calls back at her. “We all know it would be Nayeon!”

Seulgi laughs, and gets changed, and starts her shift. A woman old enough to be her mother calls Seulgi stupid because there’s no lemon in her water, and a man old enough to be her grandfather tells her she never has to work again if she’ll just come home with him instead. 

It sucks, just like it always does, but it keeps her busy and not thinking about Yerim, distracts her enough that when she gets home she’s shocked to see another note taped to her door. 

_unnie~_  
_it was so nice to see you!!!! ^o^_  
_message me when you’re done with work!!! i want to talk more~_  
_\- you know who ^^_

There’s a number and a kakao ID scribbled at the bottom of the note.

Seulgi stares at it for a long time, then unlocks the door and walks in. She sticks the note to her fridge, carefully, and stares at it for a few more minutes, then goes to the bathroom to take a shower.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t message Yerim.

 

* * *

 

Seulgi doesn’t message her, but two weeks later she comes home from the store to find Kim Yerim in the flesh, sitting in front of the door to Seulgi’s apartment and typing rapidly on her phone.

Seulgi fumbles the shopping bag she was shuffling around to free up her hand for the door, almost dropping it in the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” she blurts out, and Yerim looks up. Her whole face brightens when she sees Seulgi. 

“I came to say hi! You didn’t message me back, so I figured you were busy? But I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I really wanted to see you again!”

Yerim says all of this like it’s perfectly normal, even though there is absolutely no way her schedule isn’t busier than Seulgi’s by a mile. Even though up until two weeks ago Seulgi didn’t think Yerim even remembered she existed. 

“Oh. Do you want to, uh,” Seulgi hesitates, trying to remember the last time she cleaned up. She winces. “Come in?”

Yerim brightens. Her smile is still exactly the same: so bright Seulgi can’t look at it directly.

“Sure!” 

She stays for twenty minutes, sitting on Seulgi’s couch and waving off Seulgi’s awkward offers of barley tea, smiling at Seulgi like she’s something precious. It makes Seulgi profoundly uncomfortable, and kind of sweaty, and very aware that the note Yerim left her ( _the note she ignored, like an asshole_ ) is still tacked on her refrigerator door. 

When Yerim’s phone chimes, finally, she yelps and starts typing quickly, whispering _oh no, Juhyun-unnie’s gonna be so mad_ under her breath as her thumbs fly across the screen. 

“I have to go,” she says to Seulgi, finally, looking up with wide apologetic eyes. “But can we meet up for coffee some time? Here, put your number in my phone.”

She taps the screen a few times, types something, and then holds it out to Seulgi expectantly, shaking it a little bit until Seulgi reaches to take it from her. Her phone case looks new: purple with specks of glitter.

Seulgi doesn’t know why her heart is beating so loudly as she adds her number in the contact field that Yerim has already labeled _seulgi-unnie ʕ ᵔᴥᵔ ʔ_

“I’ll message you,” Yerim beams on her way out the door, reaching out her arms for a hug. Seulgi doesn’t hug her back, but Yerim either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

 

* * *

 

When Seulgi was thirteen years old, her parents had sent her to live with her grandmother. It hadn’t been a surprise: they’d been fighting in the kitchen nearly every night, hushed angry whispers they thought she couldn’t hear. Her older brother was already at university so it was just Seulgi, alone every night in her room, pretending everything was fine.

It was a relief, when they finally told her the truth. It was a relief not to pretend anymore. And it was a relief to leave their cramped apartment in Ansan, to arrive in an even tinier apartment in Seoul. 

Seulgi left all her friends behind in Ansan, and her dreams too. In Seoul her grandmother taught her how to cook, and how to mend her own clothes, and how to throw a punch. In Seoul, Seulgi learned how to fend for herself. 

In Seoul, Seulgi met Yerim.

 

* * *

 

They meet for coffee at a little place Yerim suggests, trendy and full of natural light. Seulgi feels like all the other patrons are staring at her worn out sneakers and scruffy ponytail. At the sweater she’s been wearing at least five days a week lately, ever since it started getting cold out. 

Yerim seems oblivious to her discomfort, complimenting Seulgi’s hair and asking whether she wants to split a piece of cake or just get her own. 

Seulgi gets her own, wincing at the price when she pays at the counter. 

They sit down, and Seulgi fidgets with her napkin, unsure what to say. Unsure why she even decided to come. 

“So, unnie,” Yerim says, smiling at Seulgi from across the table. “What are you up to, these days?”

Seulgi laughs a little, shrugging. What _does_ she do these days? Nothing Yerim wants to hear about, probably.

“I work a lot,” she says. 

“Oh! What do you do?” Yerim is still so peppy and bright. It used to bring up Seulgi’s mood, being around Yerim, but now it just makes her feel uncomfortable and out of place.

“A few different things,” she hedges. “Waitressing, mainly.”

“Anywhere I would know?” Yerim asks, her excitement not dimming in the slightest.

“Maybe?” Seulgi hedges. “It’s an Italian place in Gangnam. We do pasta and steak.”

Honestly, Seulgi hopes Yerim has never been. The restaurant is pretentious and overpriced, its customers looking down their noses at Seulgi no matter what she does. On a good day, they treat her like she’s not there at all. 

Seulgi’s phone buzzes.

“Oh, sorry,” she mutters. “Lemme just check that.”

It’s Jae, letting her know about a club opening in Itaewon. 

_i’ll go if sooyoung goes_ , Seulgi types quickly, then locks her phone and slides it back into her bag. 

Yerim is still smiling, like that’s the expression that comes most naturally to her. 

“Was that for work?” she asks. Seulgi nods, because she doesn’t really want to explain any further. She doesn’t like it when people pry, normally, but at this point she’s pretty sure Yerim’s just genuinely interested. Honestly, in some ways it’s worse, how much Yerim seems to care. 

Seulgi wants to tell her that it isn’t worth it. That Yerim shouldn’t bother, because there’s nothing left in Seulgi worth caring about.

“Why are you doing this? Why now?” Seulgi can’t stop herself from asking. 

“What do you mean, why now? Because I found you again,” Yerim says, sounding honestly confused. It’s like she really doesn’t understand why Seulgi is asking, like there aren’t a million reasons why national celebrity Kim Yerim wouldn’t be hanging around part-time waitress, part-time dancer, and full-time failure Kang Seulgi. 

“What do you mean you found me?” Seulgi stares at her in disbelief. “I never left!”

“I know, but…” Yerim trails off, looking genuinely uncomfortable for the first time since their reunion. 

“But what?” Seulgi prompts her to finish. 

“I guess I thought you’d find me first,” Yerim says finally. “I know it sounds bad, but. I thought when people started to recognize me, maybe you’d come looking for me.”

“Why would I do that?” Seulgi winces at the way Yerim’s face falls, but she keeps going. “You left me behind when you got everything I wanted. Why would I go looking for you?”

“Unnie…” Yerim takes a deep breath, visibly gathering up the courage for what she’s going to say next. “Do you want to get dinner tomorrow?”

“There’s somewhere I have to go to tomorrow night,” Seulgi hedges. “It’s kind of a work thing, so … ”

“Oh! That’s okay,” Yerim smiles. “What kind of work thing?”

“Um,” Seulgi says intelligently. “It’s just this. Club. Thing. I go sometimes.”

Yerim nods, but she looks unsure. Seulgi can’t tell what exactly is making her so uncomfortable, but there’s definitely something. 

“Unnie, you don’t…” Yerim trails off, fidgeting a little.

“I don’t do what?” Seulgi asks slowly. She’s pretty sure she doesn’t like where this is going.

“Like. For money?”

Something in Seulgi’s stomach sinks, heavy and ashamed, at the idea of Yerim thinking that about her. It makes her feel sick, rotten inside, even if it isn’t really true.

“I’m not an escort, if that’s what you’re asking,” Seulgi says, keeping her voice cool despite the nervous itching of her palms. The prickling heat at her temples. 

Seulgi dated a boy, a few months earlier. He’d met her at a club and thought she was pretty, so he offered to take her for a drive. Seulgi’s never been stupid; she’d known what he meant. 

But his clothes were new, and his watch was shiny. He bought all her drinks. He took her shopping, so soon Seulgi’s clothes were new, too. 

He’d wanted something in exchange, of course. Seulgi had told herself she didn’t mind giving it until one day she really, really did. 

She sold the last of the new clothes two weeks earlier, to cover her phone bill. 

“Ah, unnie … I didn’t mean to imply …” Yerim blushes, laughing uneasily.

“It’s fine,” Seulgi says, even though that’s exactly what Yerim _was_ implying. Seulgi’s so tired. “I just get paid to show up and look good at clubs, mostly. I only do it when I need extra cash. Or when I want to dance.”

When Yerim looks up at Seulgi her eyes are intense, like she’s searching for something in Seulgi’s expression. 

“You always did like to dance,” she says, finally, looking back down at the table with a faint smile on her face.

 

* * *

 

 _yr♡_  
unnie! one of my friends runs a dance studio and i told her about you! she said you can come in and practice there sometime if you want ^^

 _seulgi-unnie ʕ ᵔᴥᵔ ʔ_  
yerim…  
you didn’t need to do that

 _yr♡_  
i wanted to ^^

 _seulgi-unnie ʕ ᵔᴥᵔ ʔ_  
okay  
i’ll think about it

 

* * *

 

“I think you might have been right about the universe,” Seulgi says to Sooyoung, standing in line to get into the club. Their bare legs are trembling in the cold. 

“What are you talking about?” Sooyoung peers around Seulgi’s head to see if the line is moving, letting out an irritated breath.

“Fate,” Seulgi presses. “Remember?”

“Oh,” Sooyoung says, finally focusing on Seulgi. “Right. Yeah, no, you were right the first time. I was full of shit. You know how I get when someone doesn’t text me back.”

Seulgi winces. She does know how Sooyoung gets, and it’s never pretty. 

“Still,” she says, rubbing her arms to try and warm them up. “I think you were maybe on to something.”

“Yeah?” Sooyoung looks skeptical.

“Yeah,” Seulgi confirms with a grimace. “Unfortunately.”

 

* * *

 

When Seulgi gets to work the next afternoon, Yerim’s song is playing in the break room. Seulgi groans as she opens her locker. 

Yerim’s sweet voice sings about her first love protecting her from the rain. Seulgi clenches her fingers into fists.

Seulgi watched the music video for Yerim’s song exactly one time. She watched Yerim smile, sweet and sad, as she sang about how her first love walked her home from school when she was tired. How her first love brought her food when she was hungry, and sat with her when she was lonely. 

Seulgi watched a boy in a school uniform hold an umbrella over Yerim’s head, watched Yerim smile up at him with starry eyes. Seulgi watched the boy buy Yerim dakkochi, and sit next to her on a park bench, and hold her close while she cried.

Seulgi watched all of it, right up until the very end, as a tight knot formed in her stomach. 

“Can we change the music? I hate this song,” Seulgi says now, frowning. She doesn’t want to think about Yerim anymore. 

“No one hates this song,” Seungwan says, looking confused. “Literally no one.”

“Well, I do,” Seulgi snaps. “So that makes one.”

Seungwan stares at her suspiciously.

“What’s up with you, lately?”

“Nothing,” Seulgi says as she closes her locker, firm enough that it’s almost a slam. “Nothing! I just don’t want to hear this stupid song, that’s all.”

It’s an incredibly unconvincing display of _nothing_ , but Seungwan doesn’t call her out on it, just raises her eyebrows as the last few notes of the song fade out.

Seulgi takes a deep breath. 

“Sorry,” she says, closing her eyes. “I've just been stressed, lately. But I really do hate that song.”

“Don’t like thinking about your first love, huh?” Seungwan says sympathetically. She’s always kinder than Seulgi deserves.

Seulgi laughs, bitter. 

“What first love?”

 

* * *

 

Yerim texts her again three days later, wanting to get lunch. Seulgi’s shift doesn’t start until 3 so she agrees, hesitantly, despite the voice in the back of her head telling her it’s a terrible idea. 

The lunch spot Yerim picks is more of a smoothie bar than a restaurant. It’s open and modern inside, just like the café had been, and it makes Seulgi feel just as uncomfortable.

“Why do you keep wanting to meet?” Seulgi asks, finally, when they’re both seated with their drinks in front of them: Seulgi’s mango and pineapple, Yerim’s something green. 

“Because I want to see you,” Yerim says, just like she’s said every time before. 

“I just don’t understand why,” Seulgi says helplessly. “Your song is everywhere. You could have … anyone. Anything. I don’t understand why you keep wanting to see me.”

“Unnie,” Yerim laughs helplessly, and oh - _oh_. Yerim looks like she’s going to cry, her eyes shining and wet, nose already starting to turn red. Something inside Seulgi aches. “That song was for you.”

Seulgi stills, her ears full of white noise. 

“All the songs I ever wrote were for you,” Yerim manages. It sounds like her voice is coming from very far away. 

Seulgi wants to laugh, too, overwhelmed by the absurdity of it all. She doesn’t believe the words coming out of Yerim’s mouth. Seulgi works in a _restaurant_. Pretty, sweet, charming Yerim - Korea’s first love Yerim - could have anyone she wanted, probably. Why would she ever choose Seulgi?

“Why?” Seulgi says, finally, forcing the words out through numb lips.

“You were always so nice to me,” Yerim chokes out. “I felt so awful, leaving you behind. I know it sounds stupid, but I thought … I thought when I wrote the songs for you, you’d come find me. I thought you’d know right away it was you.”

“I didn’t … ” Seulgi stops, trying to organize the jumble inside her head into something worth saying out loud. “It felt like you abandoned me. Not when you left, but … when you sang that song, it felt like you were stealing my dream.”

Yerim sucks in a wet breath, her chin wobbling. 

“I didn’t mean to,” she says, voice sounding wrecked and horrible. “I wanted to share it. I swear, I wanted to share it.”

Yerim was just a little kid when they met, cheeks still round with baby fat. Seulgi hadn’t been much older, looking back, but at the time she’d felt incredibly mature. Taking care of Yerim had given her something to do. It had made her feel so important.

Seulgi hadn’t loved her then, not like that. But she’d felt empty after Yerim moved away, overwhelmed with a longing she didn’t understand. 

The longing had turned into anger when she first saw Yerim’s name on Naver, wedged into an article about upcoming debuts. Seulgi had been breathless with rage at Yerim’s nerve, taking the fruitless dream they’d imagined together as a children and making it a reality, but only for herself. 

“The video … ” Seulgi’s face burns. “Why did you use things I did? I used to buy you dakkochi, just like that. So why … ”

Seulgi can’t finish the sentence, too humiliated by her own vulnerability. 

“Unnie, weren’t you listening? It was for you. I was singing about you.” Yerim leans forward in her seat, eyes wide and pleading. 

Seulgi blinks, heart stumbling in her chest.

“What does that mean,” she whispers. Hardly daring to hope. 

“I loved you so much,” Yerim says, wiping her nose with the back of hand. “Why do you think I came back to the apartment that day? I was looking for you.”

“You were looking for me,” Seulgi repeats blankly. 

“I figured out you weren’t gonna come find me,” Yerim continues. “I looked for you online but I couldn’t find you. So I thought … maybe I wasn’t clear enough the first time. I was gonna make my next video for you, too.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I know,” Yerim coughs out a wet, snotty laugh. “I was stupid, l know I was stupid.”

“I thought you just left me behind,” Seulgi whispers. “I thought you forgot about me.”

“I could never,” Yerim smiles through her tears, wobbly but warm. “How could I ever? I love you.”

“Yerim-ah,” Seulgi says quietly. “You know things are different now, right? We’re so different.”

Yerim’s eyes are still so wide. She shakes her head.

“They don’t have to be.” She sounds so earnest. 

“Yerim-ah,” Seulgi says again, laughing a little. “You’re famous.”

Yerim wrinkles her nose.

“Barely,” she says, like her face isn’t on advertisements all over the city. Seulgi raises an eyebrow at her, skeptical, and Yerim blushes in response. 

“Okay, maybe,” she concedes. “But it doesn’t matter, right? It doesn’t have to matter.”

It does matter, kind of, when Seulgi has to work herself to the bone so she can keep the apartment her grandmother worked so hard for. When she has to give parts of herself away every day just so she can afford to keep breathing.

She doesn’t know how to say that to Yerim, who was sweet and naïve even before she found all this success. Yerim, who used to spend all her allowance buying snacks for her friends every Monday, then cry to Seulgi when she got hungry on Tuesday. 

“I don’t want to feel like I’m indebted to you,” Seulgi says slowly, trying to phrase it as gently as she can. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to give things to me.”

Yerim nods seriously, toying with the straw of her smoothie. 

“I want to give you everything,” she says, like it’s no big deal. “But I think I understand.” 

Seulgi glances at her phone, face-up on the smooth pale wood of the tabletop, and winces. 

“I have to get to work,” she says reluctantly, not wanting to leave Yerim for the first time since they met again. “But I’ll message you, okay?”

Yerim nods, smiling. Her nose is still a little pink, eyes still rimmed with red. Seulgi reaches out, feeling impulsive, and strokes her cheek with a calloused thumb. Yerim laughs. She’s just soft as she looks. 

“I’ll message you,” Seulgi repeats. There’s so much she still has left to say.

 

* * *

 

**INFO**  
_Kim Yerim’s second mini album ‘Diary’ will be released on the 12th of January at 12PM KST. The album single, ‘너를 찾았어,’ is a self-written and composed song._

**Author's Note:**

> [title](https://youtu.be/WCphVz0ZGns)   
> 


End file.
